Tiny Pieces
by queenofevilsmirks
Summary: "I wanna fold you in tiny pieces and take you with me, so I know where you are... I ripped you up into a million pieces, and threw you out and watched you scatter on the floor... fell to my knees in disbelief, and now I'm trying to put the pieces back together again..." A series of "Raulson" one-shots including multiple pairings from the seasons. Rated M overall. Not always canon.
1. Heights

_A/N: Welcome to my "Raulson" fic of one-shots. By "Raulson" I simply mean Sarah's and Lily's AHS characters (obviously none of which I own, getting that out of the way right now). Story title is inspired by the song "Tiny Pieces" by Ghost Town. Chapter lengths will often vary from pretty short to possibly quite long (if too long they'll be separated into different parts). Look up here for any information you may need about the chapter. Chapter titles second as the prompt I used.  
_

 **Pairing:** Saileen (Sally McKenna/Aileen Wuornos)

 **Rating/Warnings:** T for moderate language I guess and mention of drug use.

* * *

 **Heights**

The space between the landing she stood on and the bar below her was about a fifty foot drop. It took her approximately seven and a half minutes to psyche herself up enough to approach the railing and look down.

Sally didn't like heights. Sally had been pushed out of a window and had fallen to her death. Upon seeing how high up she was, terror stronger than any drug she'd ever tried coursed through her system like an electric current through water. The very tips of her fingers lost feeling long before her grip clenched so hard around the railing that, were she alive, she probably could have cut off some sort of blood circulation. Her shoulders quaked and a weak tear slipped down her cheek, dripping off her chin onto the back of her hand.

Down in the bar, she was greeted with the sight of the person who made the fearful fifty foot drop worth it. She watched as Liz gave Aileen another beer, and could even hear the serial killer's dark chuckle from where she was. Her dead heart remembered to leap like a roller coaster while her stomach filled with a sensation that was probably butterflies - not only had it been so long since she last felt something like this, but it felt almost like a teenage crush, and she scowled at herself. The roller coaster and butterflies suddenly turned into a lurching vertigo as she recalled how high up she was and she stumbled backwards, falling onto her ass with a slight grunt of irritation and self-loathing. She remained where she was on the floor. If she had needed to breathe, it would be coming out in shuddering gasps right about now. She clenched her hands into fists. Her fingernails dug into her palms, but of course they didn't draw blood.

She got to her feet, tried to take half a step back to the railing, but her knee gave out and she fell back down. Self-consciously, she drew her leopard-print jacket tighter around herself. Another tear cascaded down her face.

She tried again, this time not bothering to get close to the railing, and turned in the direction of the hallway that would take her to the elevator so she could return to her room. There she could slip into a heroin-induced haze and just... forget a little. Her arms wrapped around herself and she kept her gaze on her feet. She took all of two steps this time before running into someone; mumbling an apology, she moved to step around them and continue on her way, but a pair of hands suddenly grabbed her by the upper arms - and the next thing she knew, she was being lifted to her feet.

"What the fuck are you doing, you fucking-" She cut herself off, noting the familiarity to those piercing blue eyes that snapped onto her own. A wordless cry leapt from her throat as Aileen shoved her backwards, still holding her in the air, and the curve of her lower back hit the railing. She was heaved so far back that the top half of her body suspended over the rail entirely - she could see the bar upside down, and a choked gasping sort of sound rumbled out of her mouth. She considered calling to Liz for help but whatever stubborn sense of pride she still had got in the way, along with the urge to keep anyone else from seeing her like this.

So _fucking_ terrified.

"What are you doing, huh?" she heard Aileen growl, and she craned her head up to look into those blue eyes again. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you always come out and watch me from up here, before Devil's Night even starts," Aileen added in a more vicious snarl, her lips curling up into a bit of a sneer.

Sally swallowed, not sure if she wanted to close her eyes and cry, or attempt to pretend like she wasn't actually as scared as she felt. "So?" she snapped pitifully.

" _So_ , why?"

"Let me the fuck go and maybe I'll tell you."

In response, Aileen situated her grip a bit differently, so Sally's weight took more of her body into the air. A guttural, keening sound escaped her and her hands scrambled desperately at what she could grab of Aileen, feeling like she was teetering too far off the edge and would fall any second. At the same time a part of her recognized how tightly Aileen was holding onto her and found comfort in that.

"Tell me right now," Aileen said lowly.

"Is it a crime to admire you from afar?" Sally snarled; tears were leaking out of her eyes and dripping into her crimped hair past her temples.

Aileen narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. "What?" she huffed.

"Well what the fuck do you think I'm doing? Trying to get your murdering secrets out of you?" Sally purred sarcastically, though it didn't come out nearly as strong as she wanted it to.

For a second she was hanging in that empty space, looking at the fifty foot drop from upside down, and then Aileen was yanking her back to her feet safely on the right side. Her legs gave out again and she let out a thankful whimper, wiping the remnants of tears away with a shaky hand. She could feel her mascara blotting around her eyes. A mess.

To her surprise, Aileen didn't just walk away. She sat down next to her, back against the railing, arms resting on her knees. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl and she glanced to Sally without turning her head.

"Cat got your tongue, Ms. Wuornos?" Sally mumbled, drawing her sleeve across her nose and sniffing loudly.

"Funny, seeing as how you got that stupid jacket on," Aileen growled.

"It isn't stupid!"

"Why do you wear it so much, anyway?"

"Fuck you, that's why."

Aileen moved very quickly, and in a blink the serial killer was straddling Sally, pressing her back against the bars separating her from that fifty foot drop so hard that the metal dug uncomfortably into her skin. She let out an unintentional little squeak partially due to the knowledge that little metal bars wouldn't _necessarily_ protect her at all costs and tried not to grin with the excitement of such close contact. Aileen grabbed her by the face and roughly forced her to look directly into her eyes.

"What do you mean, you're admiring me?" Aileen practically whispered. Her grip turned gentle, almost like she was stroking Sally's cheek without actually moving a muscle.

Sally smirked, unable to help the instinct. "Maybe it means I like you," she purred.

"You're just messing with me."

"If I was messing with you, you'd know it. Now, were you actually going to be threatening, or did you move yourself into this position to do something more fun?" She poked her tongue out from between her teeth and waggled her eyebrows suggestively, earning a befuddled - and perhaps insulted - scowl in return.

Aileen glanced down, seeming to really realize the position she'd put herself in. The look in her eyes turned briefly to confusion, only to be quickly replaced by something Sally couldn't read. She opened her mouth to say something challenging, as was her nature, but never got the words out. Aileen's lips crashing against her own was surprising enough without her tongue jammed down her throat as well, blocking her speech so effectively she couldn't help but let out a muffled groan.

Aileen drew away all too soon, a smirk on her lips as she licked them, and Sally felt almost as if she had just been claimed - which she was pretty okay with. There was a new kind of lurching sensation, not from the proximity of height, but from something reminiscent of her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned up in an attempt to place her lips back to that wonderfully toxic feeling the serial killer gave her, but Aileen stood.

Sally scrambled to her feet, mouth moving without sound, watching Aileen walk away. Dismay replaced her previous elation and she glowered down at her feet. Yet more tears gathered in her eyes; one was milliseconds away from falling.

"You coming or what?"

Her head snapped up. Aileen was waiting for her, one eyebrow lazily arched, her arms crossed over her chest. Sally nearly ran to her. Instead she forced a calmness into her legs and stalked across the balcony to Aileen's side, making sure her hips swayed just right. The serial killer slipped an arm around her waist. Sally instinctively rested her head on her shoulder.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

* * *

 _A/N: If you liked it, shoot me a review! It would be incredibly appreciated, seeing as how we fanfic writers use reviews to survive. Also please favorite and follow!_

 _This isn't going to be a consistently updated story (I figure I have a bit of leeway since these are all going to be one-shots), so you've been warned lol._

 _Honestly, AHS is my favorite to write fanfiction for. I've been sitting on these one-shots for quite awhile and figured I should honestly just post it, because why the hell not. It should be fun to share._

 _Till next time!_

 _xo QueenofEvilSmirks_


	2. Finding You

**Pairing:** Foxxay (Cordelia Foxx/Misty Day)

 **Rating/Warnings:** None.

 **Listening To:** Finding You by Kesha

* * *

 **Finding You**

The greenhouse smelled of a mixture of chemicals. Burnt plants. Heat. A little bit of gas.

Cordelia slumped against her worktable. She reeked of the cocktail of smells dominating the room, especially since those certain scents had a tendency to latch onto her clothes, and even her hair. Her eyes stung despite the fact that she'd actually thought to take out her contacts a few hours ago. The lack of sleep was really catching up to her, the hours upon hours of just staying awake and not even bothering to close her eyes - by this point she had probably been awake for perhaps three days straight.

But she didn't _want_ to sleep.

Closing her eyes simply brought on the terrible image in her mind's eye of Misty's body turning to ash and dust in her own arms. At least, what she imagined it had looked like. She'd still been blind at the time. Really it was just the feeling of it that haunted her and seemed to become more apparent whenever her eyes were closed - perhaps because that was when her other senses were heightened. Her damn Sight. It had been enough to save Misty the first time, when Madison made an attempt on her life, but it - along with the rest of her powers - had proved more or less _useless_ in bringing Misty out of her Hell.

And now the swamp witch was _stuck_ there.

Unless Cordelia had anything to say about it, anyway, and she _did_. She'd rather give her own life than allow Misty to stay in a personal Hell for the rest of eternity.

So she had thrown herself into the work and research of bringing someone out of their Hell; for one thing, she needed to know how much of a problem it was going to be that Misty technically didn't have a body to return to. For another - and, really, for _starters_ \- she needed to know if it was even possible to bring someone back.

Thankfully she had Zoe, Queenie, and even Kyle to help her out in terms of the heaping amount of new students they'd gotten at the Academy. For the most part they were all just settling into the house and moving into the one next door, since all of them most certainly did not fit in one, but soon they were going to have to start _teaching_. Cordelia knew she was going to require some time management between being the Supreme, the Headmistress, and figuring out how to get Misty back. In other words, say goodbye to any semblance of free time or a "personal" life. Really, none of that mattered when she knew, without a doubt, that Misty was suffering. She was happy to give up everything else to devote herself to this. Regardless, she had a responsibility as a Supreme, and she didn't really think anyone was going to come along to replace her as Headmistress any time soon, so she wasn't about to leave the new students hanging. She was not her mother. She was not going to do as Fiona did and come and go when she wanted, as she pleased, and let the Coven fall to the wayside.

But still. Misty. She didn't deserve to be in Hell.

Cordelia pushed herself back up, knees trembling from the effort it took just to hold herself up, and returned to the book she'd been using as a guide. It was perhaps the oldest Latin she had yet to read, so it was slow going, but it appeared to be _the book_ for what she wanted to do. It was just thick. And dense. And no matter how much she used it, still dusty.

She worked hard. She didn't pay attention to the passage of time, and ignored Zoe when she came out in the morning to check on her. It was the weekend, she didn't have to do anything else right now! She knew they were worried about her, but she was also _pretty_ sure they wanted Misty back just as badly as she did. She wasn't going to give up - like she said, she would give up her very life if it meant Misty could return!

"Alright, focus," she murmured to herself, blinking against the sting in her eyes and pushing her glasses up her nose. "It's just Latin, you know this..."

The book said there were acute circumstances that needed to be met in order to bring a person back from Hell.

First: the person was unable to remove their own spirit.

Well, obviously.

Second: the person turned to dust in another's arms.

Unfortunately.

Third: they must love the person with all their heart. If so, then they must be experiencing a particularly _broken_ heart in the wake of their disappearance.

A broken heart. Cordelia scowled, wincing at the pain in her head - when was the last time she had a drink of water? - and pondered that. Did she love Misty? Of course she did. Misty was the first _real_ friend she'd had her entire life! She would even go so far as to say Misty was her _best_ friend. So did this love have to be romantic or sexual, or could it be platonic?

...And who did she honestly think she was kidding?

She hadn't really wanted it to be true. She'd wanted to ignore her feelings for Misty's sake, because the swamp witch could be with someone _so much better_ for her. Cordelia was honestly a mess, lacking self-confidence 85% of the time - or more - and probably a really awful person to be with, judging by her last relationship. She was certain that Misty would lead a very rewarding life and she didn't need her there to ruin it. That was what she did best. She ruined things. She ruined Fiona's life, she probably ruined Hank's, she ruined Nan's life, Madison's, a case could be made for Zoe's, Queenie's and Kyle's, even. It was a wonder she hadn't already done so to Misty! Had she not gotten stuck...

"No," she groaned to herself, closing her eyes tightly even though that made her arms tingle with the sensation of a life literally disappearing while she was covered in dust and ash.

She wasn't helping anyone by being so _stupid_.

She loved Misty. _Really_ did, with all her heart, and her heart had never felt as broken as it did now. Not even when she found out Hank was a witch hunter, that he'd technically cheated on her, and then died. All that _paled_ in comparison. So did just about anything related to her mother. She'd learned to take that in stride. But this, no, this was affecting her ability to function. She didn't feel like she could eat, drink, sleep, _move_.

So, she knew she loved Misty. With all her heart. And her heart was breaking ever more with every passing second that Misty wasn't in her life.

Fourth: the need for this person to return must not be desperate.

Cordelia was an admittedly patient person. Even if it took the rest of her life, she would _bring Misty back_.

Fifth: they must be willing to show and to give this person all their love.

She could do that. She could push aside her insecurities and, well, first see if Misty even reciprocated her feelings, then she would give all of her love. All of it. She was ready.

Sixth: it must be true love.

... _True love_?

Did that even exist? Could Cordelia risk all of this on the idea - or feeling - that Misty _possibly_ returned her feelings? _Were_ they meant for each other? Was that... a thing?

Cordelia shook her head to herself and picked the book up, distributing it on the bigger table in the middle of the room so she could gather all the things she needed, which were detailed on the very next page. Alyssum and Baby Blue Eyes plucked, petals scattered over a mixture of calcite, garnet, and rose quartz, crushed into a fine dust. Poured out in a pile in the middle of a symbol she had drawn in the mud from the swamp Misty had given her to aid in healing the scars around her eyes, from the acid that had blinded her.

Last but not least, a drop of her own blood. She pricked her finger with a needle, wincing just barely, and held it over the little mountain of glittery dust she'd created. It was to be accompanied by a single tear.

Blinking, Cordelia took a step back, placing her finger between her lips to stop the bleeding, an almost absentminded act. Her eyes felt dry and strained from the lack of sleep. She stared at what she had created, oh so close to at least the _possibility_ of bringing Misty back, how could she let anything at all _stop_ her? Truth being that she had cried herself to sleep over many variants of grief after the Trial of the Seven Wonders, one of them of course being Misty's death, others including Myrtle insisting she be burned at the stake for how she treated the previous council, and even Fiona's death. Cordelia knew she was going through _something_ when she genuinely cried thinking of Fiona - though certainly not as hard as she would have if only Fiona had been a better mother.

She shook her head to herself, sighing. Closed her eyes. Again, the tingling throughout her arms, the feeling of Misty's body turning to ash transferring into a mental picture. She tried to imagine what Misty's personal Hell possibly looked like and her throat narrowed, leaving her feeling choked with guilt and despair and-

Gathering the first tear that dripped down her cheek, Cordelia dropped it onto the mixture and stepped back. Took a deep, deep breath.

 _This is all for her._

" _Qui autem diligit me dimittere, ad arma rursus, ut sui amor non possum ultra usque in sempiternum_ ," she whispered.

Watched. Carefully. Not even daring to blink.

 _Misty, I love you. Please,_ please _don't just be... gone_.

Nothing happened.

A wretched sob burst from Cordelia's throat and she stumbled backwards into one of the flowerbeds, grabbing hold of the edge with one hand to catch herself while the other snapped up to her mouth. More tears came. She felt like she was _drowning_ , struggling to breach the surface of a wave so she could just get one more breath before going under again. Her vision blurred abruptly and she felt her body slipping towards the floor.

"Delia? ...C-Cordelia? Oh, for the love of Stevie, what've ya done..."

Cordelia groaned. Her head felt heavy and her body was practically screaming for more sleep, but she wanted to reach out to that unmistakable voice. Dream or not. She would take what she could get. "Misty," she half-slurred. "God, I miss you... I'm sorry, I failed..."

"What're you talkin' about, Cordelia?"

A cool, calloused hand cupped Cordelia's cheek. It felt very _tangible_.

"Cordelia, can ya please open your eyes for me? You're scarin' me. Did ya hit your head when you fell? 'Cause, really, this is no way to take a nap..."

Eyelids fluttering open, Cordelia had to squint against the glare of a light directly above her; someone moving to hover right over her blocked it out and she could perfectly see wide, worried, icy-blue eyes, a mass of blonde curls, and a shawl draped over shoulders raised a bit in uncertainty. She looked so _real_ \- could it really be? Cordelia jerked upright - Misty flinched back, startled - and reached up to hold the hand pressed to her cheek and take a fistful of the front of Misty's dress, tugging her even closer.

For a few moments words failed her. She just stared and Misty stared right back.

"Is it really you?" Cordelia whispered. "Are... are you really here?"

"Yes," Misty breathed. She shook her head, a grin leaping to her lips even as her eyes filled with tears. "Yes, I'm here, Delia. I really don't know how, but I'm _here_. I mean..." She briefly glanced away. A shocked, relieved laugh burst from her mouth. "I know ya had somethin' to do with it. You brought me _back_ , Delia. I, I could never thank ya enough, I don't even know what to say, I-"

Cordelia closed the short bit of distance between them, crashing their lips together quite unceremoniously and a bit haphazardly. Misty squeaked in surprise... then melted against the Supreme, and Cordelia felt her lower lip quiver against her own. A surge of emotions filled the room about as powerful as some witchcraft Cordelia had felt before. In that moment she had never felt more connected to another person. She pulled Misty as close as she could get her, clutching almost desperately. Misty held her just as tight and they somehow managed to not fall the rest of the way to the floor.

They parted, breaths bated. Misty's expression contorted and she sobbed. Just the once. Still, she was a such a breathtaking sight... and Cordelia knew what she still had to do. "Misty Day," she whispered, running a hand through her curls, " _I love you_."

Misty laughed. "Cordelia," she whimpered. "Delia... Delia, I love ya too."

"You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you ever again, so long as I live."

Leaning closer, Misty rested her forehead against Cordelia's and sighed. They drifted down to the hard dirt floor, both too exhausted to stay upright for much longer. Cordelia held the swamp witch to her with no intention of letting go any time soon, if ever.

"Welcome back home, Mist."

* * *

 _A/N:y'all best not be believing I know Latin, that shit's google translate, so if there are errors then that's totally my b.  
_

 _I haven't seen the first episode of Apocalypse yet but if Ryan Murphey didn't put Cordelia and Misty together this season I'm gonna cry. I mean I can't control it, but I'm remaining hopeful. I always got my writing if he doesn't lol._

 _Still wanted to get this up before much of Apocalypse happens because who knows how they're gonna be bringing Misty back._

 _Hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a review, and remember to favorite and follow! Foxxay is definitely one of my favorite pairings and I know they're pretty popular so give 'em some love here~_

 _Till next time!_

 _xo QueenofEvilSmirks_


	3. Anger

**Pairing:** Hotgomery (Billie Dean Howard/Nora Montgomery) **  
**

 **Rating/Warnings:** None.

* * *

 **Anger**

Nora flitted about the basement, entirely unsure why she was down here at all but feeling like she was searching for _something_ , she just didn't know _what_. Memory was not her forte. And the presence of Billie Dean Howard just upstairs was distracting, to say the least.

Something or another about some sort of lawsuit more or less required the medium's presence whenever the house - Nora's house - was being shown to potential new buyers.

Huffing out a shrill sigh Nora ascended the creaky wooden stairs and traipsed through the halls, avoiding the kitchen and the cursed pasta arm, heading for the study. It was one of the few rooms that didn't still feel off to her for... well, whatever reason. The memories were all quite foggy and hard to reach, and half the time she wondered, _why bother_? Perhaps they were gone for a reason of their own. She perched precariously on one couch with a dusty white sheet thrown over it and picked a piece of lint off her shoulder. Listening hard, she pinpointed Billie Dean, some totally unrecognizable voices that had to be the buyers, and that dreadful woman who sold the house without giving buyers any knowledge of the place's background - until now - near the stairs leading up to the second floor.

Billie Dean's increasingly frequent visits had made it hard to avoid her. Nora had never _disliked_ the other woman, simply remained primarily unsure of her, and she'd been surprised that Billie had made a point of talking to her almost every time she came by. They had built a good rapport. Nora rather looked forward to Billie's visits even if, half the time, it was with people wanting to take her house away from her.

Oh, but Billie Dean came by plenty, often enough that Nora now craved her presence and was always looking forward to seeing her again. It was odd, but something about Billie just... _soothed_... so much of the house. And Nora. Her fumbling memories didn't feel so frantic when Billie was around, in fact, she honestly felt like her memory _improved_. Not only that, but the sunlight coming in through the windows seemed _brighter_ , colors were more vibrant, sounds and smells typically unimpressive were practically _divine_ -

"You still pining after little Miss Medium?"

Her whole upper body gave a jerky twitch; she turned to the archway, glaring Chad's way and well aware that her cheeks were reddening. At least as much as they could despite her being deceased. "Whatever do you want?" she half-spat.

Chad shrugged. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. " _I_ don't want anything," he scoffed. "But, clearly, _you_ do."

"Please leave me alone," Nora sighed.

"You know, you should keep a closer eye on Miss Medium when she's here," Chad drawled, obviously ignoring her. She rolled her eyes and turned away. Focused her gaze back on the bookcases, hoping they weren't dusty, although even if they were she had long since lost the nerve to ask that maid - what was her name? Moira, wasn't it? - to clean. "Remember that nasty fellow who crashed his way in here and overdosed the other week? Hm?"

Nora flinched. She knew the man - she'd seen him sulking around in the backyard and the hall leading to the basement. He had a dark look to his beady little eyes and Nora did not need _Chad_ to remind her of him. "And what does that... _beast_... have to do with Billie Dean?" she asked, still without looking at her unwanted company.

"Well then, I take it you haven't noticed him watching Miss Medium whenever she's around. Kind of with a predatory look. Understand, sweetheart?" Chad said. After a moment he won and Nora looked back to him; he quirked an eyebrow. The silence between them stretched on until finally he groaned and rolled his eyes quite dramatically. "Okay, I get that your memory _really_ isn't what it used to be, but does that effect your regular capacity to _think_? This guy was a crazy drug addict, and right now Billie Dean is the only living person he can get to. Not to mention she's a woman and he just looks... well, hungry."

"Hungry?" Nora echoed, scowling.

"Christ on a bike, do I have to spell it out for you?" Chad shook his head. "Whatever he ends up doing to her, unless you _stop_ him, it's going to end in murder. But then I guess the two of you will be together forever, won't you?"

He waltzed away, and Nora had half a mind to follow him, but the sound of the realtor's loudly obnoxious voice getting nearer to the front door sliced through the majority of her thoughts, rendering her briefly immobile. Then she heard the door open. She shot to her feet and strode around the corner into the hallway. The realtor - _Marcy? Mercy? Heavens, I just don't remember_... - was leading the potential buyers outside while Billie Dean hesitated in the hall. She turned halfway around, shooting Nora one of her signature mega-watt smiles. It was stunning. As always. Nora smiled back quite a bit more timidly, one hand absentmindedly floating up, her fingers tapping vaguely on her stomach.

"How did it go?" she asked, voice low, eyes downcast from Billie's.

"You don't have to ask," Billie chuckled. "I know you don't have any particular desire to see this house sold over and over again. Why don't we talk about something else?"

"Oh?" Nora murmured.

Billie laughed a bit harder. "How have you been, Nora?" she asked.

"Good," Nora said slowly - feeling the vague blush, praying she hadn't tripped over her own tongue too badly that the single word fell out of her mouth in a stutter.

"Are you sure?" Billie hummed, raising an eyebrow and sort of smirking.

Huffing out a sigh, Nora momentarily glanced away, in part to check and make sure no unwanted presences such as Chad were still around. "It merely surprises me that you... seem to care as much as you do about me," she said. "Typically I and all the other spirits leave each other alone, with a few exceptions... I am not terribly social, nor do I actually _enjoy_ the company of anyone stuck in this house, not even my own so-called husband. Well, till death did we part, honestly - my point being that I am always quite glad to see you, and speak to you, and it makes me... _foolishly_ happy that you care enough to ask me how I'm doing."

A slowly growing grin took over Billie's beautiful features and Nora quickly averted her gaze, unsure entirely where these flustered thoughts and feelings were coming from but aware enough of herself to know they weren't just _going away_ any time soon. "I do care about you, Nora," Billie said softly. "You're a fascinating woman and I'd like to think our relationship has grown quite intimate since I started coming by here more often." Her eyes - mocha brown, Nora had noticed a good while ago, a shade that honestly made her appreciate coffee far more than she ever had before - darted to the side. Billie cleared her throat. "I, ah, I don't mean to speak for you at all. But I want you to know that I'm also very happy to spend time with you. In fact, you're the main reason I bother coming around here as often as I do. Who cares if the realty company gets sued for the presences here - they probably won't, seeing as how seldom people make it out of this place _alive_ to actually make a complaint." She waved a hand, biting down shyly on her lower lip. It took Nora a moment to realize she was staring. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" Billie laughed, this time more awkwardly.

"Oh, not at all, dear," Nora said, waving a hand. "I'm touched you think I'm so worth spending time with."

"If I had it my way, I'd be spending a hell of a lot more time with you," Billie said. And she winked. And Nora felt a lurching sensation in her chest that really rather startled her; her hand snapped up to her chest as if she'd just been given a bad fright, the rest of her body jumping along with the action. Billie's face sort of fell.

"Are you staying for much longer?" Nora asked swiftly, to distract from her bizarre behavior. She internally grimaced at the slight stammer that entered her voice, this time really noticeable, she was sure.

"I was actually wondering if maybe you could help me with something," Billie said. She shifted closer - again that lurching sensation burst inside Nora's chest, and she almost let out a low groan - and rested a hand on Nora's forearm.

It was... electric.

"Yes?" Nora breathed.

Billie flashed a warm smile. "I sensed someone new today," she said. "I think I noticed them a couple weeks ago, but they really seemed like they were making their presence known just now. Marcy was leading that couple around towards the basement when I felt it. At first I was a bit startled, then I noticed it's... well, it's one of the darker presences I've ever felt in this house. That worried me, is all."

Nora blinked. Anxiety bloomed in her chest, replacing the arguably better feeling of something like vertigo simply from being around Billie, it seemed. "And?" she said. "I've felt him, too. We all did when he died; that was a week ago. Drug overdose. Lord knows how he even managed to get into the house, though I suppose break-ins are not uncommon. He certainly does give off a beastly air, but I am sure if you were to simply avoid him you have nothing to worry about."

"And... if he purposefully tries to get close to me?" Billie asked, voice hardly above a whisper. Her own anxiety danced in those beautiful mocha brown eyes, brows furrowed. Nora scowled - if she could take those feelings away she would, but how? "What if he corners me, or just takes me by surprise? I don't particularly want to _assume_ something bad would happen, but judging by the way he makes me feel-"

"It is wise of you to be weary," Nora interrupted gently. She took Billie's hand still resting on her forearm into her own. "If ever something like that were to happen, just call my name, and I will make sure he does nothing to harm you. I will always do everything in my power to protect you, my dear."

Billie's cheeks lit up in a rosy blush, and Nora smiled. "Thank you," she sighed. "That's a big weight off my chest... You're very kind to me, Nora. I appreciate that."

"I hate to see the way some of the others treat you, so snobbishly," Nora scoffed. "You are a lovely girl. Everyone else in this house is just envious of the fact that you are still alive. Oh, but now _I'm_ beginning to ramble, aren't I?"

Grinning, Billie squeezed her hand and pulled away. "I should get going. It was nice to see you, hun."

Nora could only manage a bigger smile, too flustered to make an attempt with words. The simple little term of endearment brought levity back to her body; she felt almost like she was lying in a soft bed of clouds. A warm, soothing embrace. She waved back at Billie as she turned to grab the doorknob and pull the door shut.

She was gone, and Nora felt aimless. Floating now in a sea of emptiness.

* * *

"'Xeric'," Violet said, placing the small wooden pieces onto the board. "It means 'requiring a small amount of moisture'."

"Nice one, Vi," Vivien chuckled. "That gives you... a whopping fifty-two points!"

"You're quite good at this game," Nora murmured, glancing between her letters and the Scrabble board. When Violet had asked her if she'd like to play with her and her mother, she had at first declined; the loneliness she'd been feeling in spades since Billie Dean's departure yesterday, however, kept nipping at her heels until it edged its way to the back of her head. _That_ stung quite a bit. She'd hurried to find the girl and her mother, and even though they were playing in the kitchen - definitely Nora's least favorite room by this point - she was having a nice time. The game looked to have been gathering dust in the attic for years now and she was excited to find she could actually remember the rules after Violet explained them only once.

Violet shrugged, a modest gesture to contradict her smug smile. "I've been forcing lots of people to play it with me since we got stuck here," she said. "It's something to do, right?"

"I suppose. Would you please hand me the-"

" _Nora_!"

She jolted badly, nearly falling right off her chair.

"What the hell?" Violet spluttered.

 _Billie, that was Billie - when did she get into the house? How did I not notice?_ Nora thought frantically, whimpering and quickly righting her balance, pushing herself out of her chair and grabbing her skirts to run towards the basement. She couldn't feel Billie but could tell where her shout had come from, and she honestly wasn't surprised.

Terrible things happened in that damned basement.

She flew down the steps, a miniscule part of her wondering if this was the day one of the weak, bowing boards was going to break right under her weight. Small yelps and cries were coming from one of the side rooms, and a scuffling sound. Nora didn't even think; she ran into the room, saw the newest resident above a struggling Billie, holding her wrists up above her head and pinning her down to the dirty concrete floor with his body, and she grabbed him by the hair. Yanking him back violently, she heard herself snarl. It was drowned out by his low cry of surprise mixed with a tiny increment of pain, his hands snapping up to grab her wrist.

"You get your _vile_ hands off her!" she roared, dodging between him and Billie. He scooted backwards on his rear, eyebrows raised. She could see the beginnings of a laugh on his features and sneered. "If ever you bother her again, why, I swear to God I'll find a way to kill you a second time! You _brute_!"

"I ain't afraid of you," the man scoffed. He rose to his feet and Nora shuffled backwards ever so slightly - she hadn't been this close to him before. He was big. Board shoulders, thick muscles rippling beneath his grimy, hooded sweatshirt. Could probably snap her like a twig.

Nora glared at him nonetheless. Turning over her shoulder, she inspected Billie for injuries; she was a bit scuffed, her light pink button-up blouse un-tucked from her dark blue jeans, but other than that she appeared unharmed. Wait, no - there was a bruise on her cheek, just under her temple and creeping towards the corner of her eye. She pulled herself back a foot or so, tears making her eyes shine. Sniffling, she carefully - and shakily - got up to her feet.

Seeing her blatant fear and the bruise marring her previously flawless skin made Nora absolutely _livid_.

She turned back around the same second she heard a slight scuff on the floor, signaling the man before her snapping into action. With the force of her turn she backhanded him right across the face, hard enough to send him stumbling to the side. He snarled in fury and lunged at her again, something flashing in his hand. Nora felt a strange prickling in her side, between her last two ribs. The man's body slamming into hers and sending them both to the floor quickly gave her something else to feel. She uselessly kicked her legs at more or less nothing; he pushed himself upright, straddling her hips, and yanked out whatever he'd shoved into her side. Lukewarm, thick wetness spurted from a gaping wound, the blood too brown and clotted to be mistaken for a living person's. He pressed the knife to her throat.

A pleasant feeling washed over Nora, taking away the pain. On the other hand, the man squealed and scrambled off her like she had somehow burned him.

Billie grabbed her by the arm and heaved her to her feet. "Go away," she snarled at the man. Her lower lip quivered and a tear or two streamed down her bruised cheek even while her tone remained steady and commanding. "Go. Away. Leave me the hell alone - actually, why don't you leave us _both_ alone?"

He spit their way. "Fuck you," he snapped. But he sulked away without a hint of further fight in him, pocketing the knife.

"Jesus Christ," Billie half-groaned, half-panted. "Are you okay?"

Nora spun on her, towering over her quite easily with her height advantage. "What on earth were you _thinking_?!" she yelled. Billie flinched back in surprise, eyes widening. " _You_ have the fortune of still being alive, and yet you run straight into danger? He could have _killed_ you! And done much worse before that! What would I have done then? Did you think of me at all when you thrust yourself into such a perilous situation? I don't want you to be _stuck_ here, even if that would mean I get to spend every moment with you, you do not deserve that fate, Billie Dean!" She took in a big, shuddering inhale she didn't whatsoever need, forcing herself to lean back and lower the volume of her voice. "Forgive me for yelling, but I must say I am _furious_ with your stupidity. If you got hurt I would never forgive _myself_ \- and look at what that brute did to you!" Whimpering, she reached up and gingerly cupped Billie's cheek, thumb skating over the bruise gradually becoming blacker and bluer.

Billie gaped. "Nora-"

"Did you make sure he cannot even come near you again?" Nora said in a sharp gasp. "Is that what that nice feeling was?"

"It - well, yes, but it wasn't nice for _him_ ," Billie spluttered. "Nora, you-"

"I'm relieved you called for me, and that I could help, but don't you dare put yourself in a situation like that again. You knew he was a dark presence, why approach him?"

"Nora, will you let me explain myself?" Billie gushed, grabbing Nora by the arms and giving her a slight shake the same second Nora instinctively grabbed her arms back. She pursed her lips to stop herself from saying anything. "I wasn't _trying_ to get myself killed. I just thought I would nip this in the bud, find that man and make sure he wouldn't be able to come near me in the future. He came out of nowhere and-"

"You call that an explanation?" Nora interrupted yet again, shrilly. She could feel tears prickling behind her eyes and blinked frantically, unnecessary breaths coming faster and shallower. "Billie _Dean_! How could you? What do you think I would do without you?" She burst into harsh, wracking sobs. Billie immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, shushing her gently, rubbing up and down her back in a way that was both soothing and electrifying - in fact, Nora realized, every time they touched she could feel that electricity. And she knew, somehow, what that meant. Though she didn't think she had ever felt it she was sure she'd read about it, heard other women she knew in her time talking about it, how lucky they were they actually fell in love with the man they married as opposed to doing it out of necessity-

"Nora, I'm so sorry," Billie whispered. "You're right, I wasn't thinking. I was being completely selfish, I should have thought of you, I'm _sorry_. I didn't-"

Nora jerked just a bit out of her arms. She had a wild thought, but it seemed as if her body was acting on the impulse before her mind could think it through. Holding Billie's face in her hands, she drew the medium closer, kissing her with every ounce of care and adoration she felt. She had been foolish in her own way - but at least she could fix that.

She drew back after a moment. Billie gaped at her again, her eyebrows slowly ticking up her forehead, lips tugging into a smirk. She let out a breath of a laugh. "So you want to spend every moment with me?" she purred, a bit of cockiness entering her tone.

"Oh, now don't get all smug," Nora drawled. "You're still in quite a bit of trouble, my dear. Please promise me you will _never_ do anything like this again."

Billie grinned, biting down on her lower lip. "I promise."

"Good. And I accept your apology."

"What makes you think I'm done apologizing?" Billie whispered, tilting her head up and brushing her lips over Nora's in a feather light kiss.

"What makes you think you've earned another one?" Nora countered.

Billie chuckled lowly. "What makes you think you can resist?"

Nora glared despite being unable to quash a smirk of her own. "You are too cocky for your own good, darling," she laughed, leaning back in. She felt Billie's responding smile.

"Hey, is everything okay down here? Nora? You're taking a long time to - oh!"

Practically leaping away from Billie, Nora held a hand up over her mouth and spun on her heel to find Violet in the doorway, visibly fighting down a fit of giggles. "I wasn't-" she began, but horror abruptly replacing the glee on the girl's face cut her off.

"Oh my God, were you _stabbed_?" Violet yelped.

Nora looked down at herself. A big, dark red stain was covering her side and seeping down towards her leg. Behind her Billie groaned vaguely. "Christ... I can help with that. Come upstairs with me, hun, I'll clean around the wound and bandage it up. I know spirits can heal themselves back to the way their body was like when they died, so you'll be alright." She came around to the socialite's side, slipping an arm around her waist and placing her free hand on Nora's shoulder, almost right over her no longer beating heart. "Does it hurt?" she asked softly, frowning and meeting her gaze worriedly.

"No," Nora murmured. "The only times I've ever felt _anything_ after... my death... have been with you."

"Wow, that's sweet," Violet snorted. Nora shot her an offended look. "I mean, you guys have fun with... whatever you're doing. My mom and I are just gonna finish the game without you, Nora, but you can come back and join us - you, too, Billie."

Billie laughed. "Thank you, Violet." The girl shrugged, smiling, and walked away. Nora narrowed her eyes after her briefly, looking back to Billie at the chime of another laugh.

"What?" she asked.

Grinning, Billie winked. "I was just thinking about how I'd been wondering yesterday if I was going to have to make the first move after all."

"You know, perhaps the reason most spirits do not seem to like you is because of your knack for being a know-it-all," Nora chuckled, nudging her towards the door. They waltzed leisurely for the stairs.

"Oh, you know you love it," Billie purred.

"I find it adorably endearing, yes. And besides, someone has to keep an eye on you to make sure things like _this_ don't happen again."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Absolutely not. Just be glad, darling, that I am no longer _angry_."

Billie shrugged, and Nora smiled knowingly at her toothy smirk. "I thought it was pretty sexy, actually," she said.

"Don't you dare think about doing that again," Nora huffed. She stopped just past the basement door, forcing Billie to as well, and lightly kissed her bruise. "You promised."

* * *

 _A/N: Caught up with Apocalypse. I'm really liking it, although I'm bummed they killed Venable so soon, but yay because she's in some of the flashbacks! And they're sure taking their time with those, aren't they? But I digress~ Only other things I'm going to say about it for now: why the hell has Misty only been in one episode, and Sarah's directorial debut was SO FRICKIN GOOD UGH!_

 _Hope you all liked this chapter! It's a bit longer. I often feel like I'm not very good at writing fluff so I hope it's alright. Please keep sending reviews, following, and favoriting! Means a lot to me when y'all take the time to do so._

 _Till next time!_

 _xo QueenofEvilSmirks_


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